An unexpected clamour greeted Legolas Thranduilion as he rode into the valley of Imladris. He was stopped courteously by the outlying guard and a messenger was dispatched, who returned hurriedly with the lord Glorfindel himself.

"Son of Thranduil! This is a happy coincidence," exclaimed the Elf of Rivendell, ushering Legolas past the guards and toward the Last Homely House.

"Why the commotion, my lord? Or does Imladris greet all visitors thus?" Legolas replied, relieved to be granted the admittance that he had begun to despair of.

"Only when they arrive during such curious circumstances." They had reached the great house of Elrond, and Glorfindel continued to speak as he led the Mirkwood Elf immediately up a flight of stairs to the second floor. "Some days ago, Elladan and Elrohir returned from a scouting trip with a mortal maiden whom they had found in the forest, alone and injured. The lord Elrond healed her, but not even he can understand her strange tongue, save one word: 'Legolas.'"

The two halted at a chamber door, and Legolas looked at the other, baffled. "Who is she? How might she know my name?"

"We know not, prince. I had hoped that you might recognise her."

He lifted his shoulders in an amenable shrug. "I shall see her."

Glorfindel pushed the door open. Legolas entered doubtfully, then halted.

In the sublight from an open window stood a vision of beauty. Legolas blinked and looked again, his eyes this time absorbing more precise details.

A waterfall of dark hair cascaded down her back, curling and glowing richly in the Sun. She was clad in a silken white gown, which was slit at the sleeves to reveal slim arms and plunged at the neckline, leading Legolas's gaze lower and luring his mind into decidedly un-princely thoughts. He jerked his attention back upwards. Her eyes were the colour of the Sea, tinged with deeper shades of green and hazel. And her lips…her lips were the stuff that desire was made of.

Legolas took a step forward and cleared his throat. "My lady?" he began.

She turned quickly at the sound, and wonder suffused her expression. In a voice clear, sweet, and mellifluous, she cried, "Legolas!"

And then she clutched her breast and fell dead of a heart attack.

A/N: Oh well.